Mirrors
by chocolate-frog-fan
Summary: George discovers the mirror of Erised, and becomes obsessed with it...
1. Chapter 1

Disclamer: As much as I would like to own them, all characters belong to JK Rowling

This is my first chapter of my first ever fanfic - and if nobody likes it, I will go and hide somewhere...

Please review it :) (if you don't I may not add more chapters)

I don't mind having constructive feedback/ mild criticism, but please don't have a go at me if you think it's terrible, this is only my first fanfic, and i'm a young writer :)

This chapter is dedicated to **Elven Heart993**, as her wonderful fanfic Double or Nothing inspired me to write this

And i'm sorry if I have 'stolen' ideas from your story, but I have tried extremely hard to keep my ideas original, even if ideas are taken from other fanfics.

Sorry for the essay...

George had started to hate mirrors. It seemed strange in a way, his such loathing for an inanimate object, but every time he saw one was enough to bring his fist into clenches and his tired face into a look of uttermost hate, but with a shadow of sadness. The Weasleys, after Fred's death, would look up every time they saw George, just hoping, longing for both twins. George was fed up of the look of disappointment on their faces whenever they realised it was him, George. Only George. But George had the same reaction; every time he looked at a mirror, he would turn back, convinced the mirror had winked as George hadn't, or given him a small smile. But whenever he turned back to look, his heart leaping a little, he would only see the pale reflection of one-eared, sleep deprived George Weasley. He hated mirrors. All except for one.

It was the morning after the battle of Hogwarts. Voldemort was dead, death eaters were dead or had fled and Harry had saved the day, again. George knew he ought to be happy, to at least put on a brave face and try and celebrate with everyone else, but his body and mind seemed to have gone into shock. Fred was gone. _Gone. _Forever. George was never going to taste his terrible cooking again, or tease Percy with him, or hear his laugh. Never.

All the memories of Fred seemed to be pouring back into George, just to make things worse. Practising Quidditch with Fred at the Burrow; running around Hogwarts with Fred at three in the morning, avoiding Filch after Fred's 'plan' went slightly haywire; accidentally blowing up their bedroom when experimenting for skiving snackboxes; trying to hide their terrible O.W.L results from their mother.

George didn't have any memories without Fred in, and staring at his twins pale face, with a slight Fred-ish grin on it was torture, yet George could not seem to tear his eyes away.

_He was walking into the Great hall, in search for something to stem the flow of blood from his ear. _Stupid ear, _thought George. It always seemed to be bleeding nowadays, but then again, maybe it was a warning, a danger sign. He stepped over bodies, shaking slightly; George had known some of these people, and they had died, innocently, for good. He could see his family, they seemed to be standing round something. _Someone. _George's heart was racing now. Not Ginny, he prayed. Or Percy, so soon after he had apologised. He moved closer, his entire body sinking as he saw a mop of ginger hair on the cold stone floor. It had to be a Weasley. But before he could get there, George was almost flattened by Ginny. In tears, she threw her arms around George. The faces of his family looked up at him, but he hadn't really registered who was there and who wasn't. They were crying, and looking at George, their expressions starting to scare him. _

'_Fred, where's Fred?' George asked, a huge lump forming in his throat._

'_I'm sorry, George. I'm so sorry,' Charlie said, tears streaming down his face and sounding as though he had a bad head cold. Charlie was crying. This wasn't right. He'd seen his mother and Ginny cry plenty of times before, about stupid little things. He'd seen Percy cry, and Bill, Ron and his father had had their fair share of tears too. But Charlie had never cried because he, like Fred, was practically invincible. George was sure he was the only Weasley to have seen Fred _

_cry, and that had only happened about once in George's memory. But where was Fred? _

_He stepped closer to the body, the Weasleys moving out of his way._

_George's heart seemed to stop._

_It couldn't be. Fred was lying there, pale, a trickle of blood of his forehead. But Fred was, Fred was Fred. He couldn't die. He wouldn't die. Not without George. This had to be a trick, some sort of sick wind up, but Fred would never do such a thing._

'_I'm so sorry George,' Bill said, putting a hand on George's shaking shoulder as he collapsed onto his knees next to his twin..._

George had spent the rest of that terrible hour staring at Fred's body, praying for some sign of movement, that Fred was just injured, or had been knocked out, but after a while, people came over to move his body. George tried to yell at them, to scream at them to leave him alone, but no sound could come out of his mouth, he was just sitting there in complete shock. After that, George had vowed to his twin to kill whoever had caused his death, and to kill every other last death eater too. Perhaps his anger had spurred him on, George had to kill this person, and neither cared whether he himself lived or died. He fought well, and took down Yaxley with the help of Lee Jordan. But now this battle was over, and George had nothing to focus on except the death of his twin.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews even if there only were a couple, I really appreciate them. Sorry if the chapter splittings are random, I wrote this like one giant one-shot, and I'm struggling to choose where to split it. This chapter is dedicated to Kita163, my first reviewer and an awesome online friend

I hope you all like (:

And the characters are still all JK Rowling's. (She's so lucky...)

C'mon George,' said Bill, looking down at George's crumpled figure sitting on a bench in the great hall, 'we need to get rid of some of this rubble.' George was not sure whether Bill had been told to fetch him or not, to take his mind off the past few hours and stop him from staring into space, continuously re-living the worst moments of his life. Bill walked off, probably not expecting George to help. But George needed to see Fred again, and he had no idea where his body had been taken. Sighing, George got to his feet and disappeared down a rubble filled corridor to try and clear it, only to realise he had left his wand somewhere in the great hall. But he couldn't go back, not after the amount of people trying to comfort him, saying they understood. Sure, they had his best interests at heart, but they didn't understand. They couldn't understand, and their words of comfort meant nothing to George. They hadn't lost a twin; they couldn't understand, and they didn't know just how lucky they were.

George continued down the corridor some more, too tired to move any rubble by hand. He didn't really care anymore. So Hogwarts was a wreck, but so was he, and a castle could be restored, not like Fred. Still in a state of shock, George walked into an empty classroom. Battle had obviously taken place in here; there was rubble on the floor and the members of the portraits in the room had fled. George needed to sit down, he was dizzy. It was surely shock, and lack of sleep and energy. Pushing aside some rock by hand, he slumped down onto the stone floor against the wall and stared into space, memories of Fred mocking and teasing him for the fact he could never see his twin again...

Yet Fred was smiling down at him from the other side of the room.

George blinked with shock, his heart raced; Fred, standing opposite him and smiling, unharmed, at George.

'Fred?' he asked, the first thing he had said since it had happened. George's heart leapt for a second, but this Fred was not speaking. George blinked and looked again, like a small child expecting some kind of surprise, which was exactly what George got. It was him, George, standing next to Fred, and smiling. George could tell it was him, the figure on the right was missing his left ear. A million questions were going through George's head, but he could not speak them. Instead, he stood up, aching with tiredness, and walked over to Fred and the other version of himself. They stayed there, smiling at each other and laughing a little. Absorbed in the hope that Fred was back in some way or form, George stuck his hand out to hug his twin, but to receive a sharp shock and a bruised arm. He had walked into a mirror of some sort, and for the few dazed seconds in which George was working out what happened, he saw only himself, pale with a bloody ear and looking very confused in the mirror. Stepping back again, George still saw himself, but happy and with Fred again. It was only a mirror, but from the look of things, it was the closest George was going to get to his twin. Settling back onto the cleared part of the floor, George looked up at the mirror, longing to swap places with the mirror-George, who was laughing with Fred without a care in the world.

'George? George?'

Concerned voices roused George from sleep. He hadn't intended to sleep, but had nodded off, Fred smiling down at him. He blinked, the mirror opposite him was now only showing him, bleary eyed and ill-looking , his father and Percy. George's heart sunk. The sleep had made him feel physically better, but for matters of losing Fred, he only felt worse. The only way he could ever see his twin again was through a mirror, and that wasn't much to go on.

'Are you ok?' Percy asked quietly, as though George was seriously ill. In George's opinion, that was a stupid question. He had lost his twin brother, for goodness sake, he was hardly going to be ok.

'I'm sorry,' Percy said tearfully, seeing the look on George's face. 'We were worried, we hadn't seen you for ages.' George barely looked at him, wishing to see more of Fred in the mirror, but his Father delayed this plan.

'It's lunchtime, Georgie,' Arthur said, also quiet. George registered the use of Georgie, something that, before his ear had been lost, hadn't been used since he was small enough to look cute and innocent. 'Some people have prepared some food,' Arthur continued, 'and you need to eat, you haven't had anything since five o'clock last night.' This was true, and George had fought partly on an empty stomach, but eating seemed about the last thing he wanted to do right now. He looked at his father, expressionless except for a look of pure sadness in his eyes.

'Please George,' Percy asked, 'Mum's been worried.'

George got up reluctantly, with the help of his father. If it had been his decision, he would spend the day in front of the mirror, drifting in and out of sleep, Fred still smiling at him. But this was real life, and reality sucked.

They walked slowly from the room, Percy and Arthur clearing away rubble with their wands, while shooting concerned looks at George, who was trying to remember the location of the room.

George passed another mirror on the way to the great hall. He had not noticed it before, but now wanted to punch it. Unlike the other mirror, it only showed the image of himself, pale except for the blood on his left ear, and having to be practically held up by his father and older brother. How was he going to spend the rest of his life like this? Fred and George had planned their futures and, although only did so briefly, had never ever considered anything like this. George did not know what he was going to do. Every thought of Fred bought a pain to him, far worse than the pain that had sliced his ear off. How would he ever go back to the shop that had been their dream...

'_We've done it Fred. We've really done it!' George said as he grinned around at the empty shop and opened a bottle of firewhiskey. _

'_Yeah,' said Fred beaming as much as George, 'no more stupid Umbridge, or rules, or Filch's detentions, or charms homework,' he sighed happily. 'We're free George. Forever.'_

'_Well, until Mum finds out about it,' laughed George, although they knew they'd make even her proud after the years of work they had put into their products. 'To freedom,' said George, banging his glass against Fred's. 'And our dream shop.' _

'_We're never leaving this shop, after all the work we put into getting it in the first place' Fred said, making both of them laugh at the image of them running the shop in their mid-nineties._

'_Yeah,' smiled George, running up the stairs to take a look at the tiny flat the twins would live in until they had enough money to move somewhere bigger..._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 already everyone :D It's the summer holiday, so I have a lot of free time to write and put it on her :D Thanks so much for the reviews, I might only have a few, but they make me really happy, and also when people subscribe (or whatever it's called) to my story :)

This chapter is for my friend Kira, a Harry Potter mad friend of mine :D She's already read it and the next couple of chapters which I gave to her in Starbucks (xD), but It's great to have someone to fangirl with sometimes :)

I just wanted to add - I sometimes write to this: .com/watch?v=CtgKjObWID4 beautiful song, which really puts me in the mood for writing

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><p>George arrived back in the Great Hall, expecting no less than what his family's reaction was. The Weasleys were again crowded around, but it was only a table. Molly was sobbing, Bill's arm around her. Harry, Fleur and Hermione were also sitting with them, a little distance away.<p>

'Georgie!' Mrs Weasley cried hoarsely, looking up at her son, and before George knew it, she had flung her arms around him and was sobbing onto his shoulder. Part of George wanted to comfort her; she was his mother and the loss of Fred had affected her badly, although not anywhere near as badly as he had been. But George remained wooden, unable to really think or move.

'My baby,' she sobbed harder, 'Georgie, I – I thought – after – after Fred,' but she stopped there, unable to say anymore as a result of the tears taking over her. Mr Weasley prised her off George and led her to the table, Percy gesturing to George for him to join them. He sat down reluctantly and stared at the blank wall behind Ginny's sleepy face. He and Fred had once tried to charm that entire wall purple, only to find an irate Professor McGonagall right behind them.

'Please eat Georgie.'

George couldn't pretend he didn't see it coming. His family were bound to try and get him to eat, to have some energy. After all, he looked very tired and felt as though he were underwater, but the prospect of eating was extremely uninviting and George felt he was going to be sick if he so much as nibbled a toast crust. That didn't stop his family from trying though, but after fifteen minutes of pointless attempts to get George to eat, drink, or even respond to them, they gave up and tried to eat something themself. The talk stayed minimal, Molly still sobbing quietly between shaky mouthfuls of porridge and Arthur and George's elder brothers discussing ways to clear away the rubble and get the students home in a businesslike manner. George, however, seemed unable to think straight; every thought linked back to Fred and every thought of Fred caused him to relive the past night. George needed to see the mirror again, to see Fred happy, not lying cold and dead on the stone floor like he was in the horrifying mental images.

George's plan was prevented all afternoon. All of the family except Ginny and Molly were outside, helping to restore Hogwarts to the beautiful castle it once was. George had stayed in the exact same spot since lunch, and people seemed too busy to really realise he was there, not that it really mattered to him.

'George?'

Lee Jordan had sat down next to George, he too looked tired, battle-worn and sad. 'You okay mate?' George didn't know why he felt so differently when Percy had asked the question. He shrugged, not looking anywhere in particular. Lee was his best friend, after Fred, of course. He had spent many nights avoiding Filch with the twins, but George really didn't want to speak to him right now. Lee didn't move, just looked around the hall silently. After letting out a long sigh, he spoke again, George only now noticing the way he was talking; as though he were holding back tears. 'I'm sorry George. I'm so sorry.' These words didn't really mean anything to George. So many people had told him they were sorry, but that wasn't going to do anything. Just useless words. Useless words that couldn't bring Fred back, which was all George wanted. If he had the energy, George would definitely have got up when he saw Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood walking up, but he couldn't be bothered.

'Hey George,'

It was Angelina, Fred's ex-girlfriend. Fred and Angelina had had a massive row before breaking up a year and a half after Hogwarts, and had not spoken since,but his death had obviously affected Angelina, who had extremely red eyes. Alicia dropped down on George's other side and put her arm round him. She, like Angelina had red eyes too. Fred and Alicia were good friends, though never dated. George had taken her to the Yule ball and had a genuinely good time with her, but never really dated her either. These people were all Fred's, and George's friends. They were here to help him, yet George really couldn't even look at them now. But then he couldn't really do anything. Maybe he really had gone into shock...

It was later. Much later. George lay under the covers in a bed. A few of the fighters had remained at Hogwarts, to help clear up more in the morning. George was curled up in a bed in a Hufflepuff dormitory, half watching Percy's body rise and fall with his snores. None of the Weasleys wanted to let George out of anyone's sight, worried he might go off again and, in his underwater-like state, injure himself on some rubble. Checking Percy was fast asleep, George climbed carefully out of bed. He hadn't slept for ages, just lay awake, his mind blank except for the horrible image Fred lying dead on the floor. He needed to see the mirror again.

It seemed that George was out of practice wandering around in the night as he had done for so many years. He got lost the minute he reached the top of the stairs which led down to the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories. Trying to keep his eyes open, George looked around the darkness. He had forgotten his wand. In fact, he wasn't even sure where it was. And being lost in a huge, dark rubble filled castle in the middle of the night alone and without a wand was not George's favourite place to be right now...

'_Muuuuuummmeeeeee,' yelled George, tears forming in his eyes. 'I'm looooost,' he wailed. _

_Molly looked up from her cooking. Those twins would be the death of her; their games would always end up dangerous in some way, and more often than not, someone would be screaming or in tears, whether it be Ron, Percy or herself. _

_George wailed harder. He was trapped, somewhere dark. Fred wasn't there, he had gone to hide somewhere else after Charlie had explained hide-and-seek was just no fun when he was against the twins who always hid together. 'Mummmmmmeee. Fwediiieeee,' George sobbed harder, he could cope with dark, but it was really dark, and it smelt funny. 'I'm twaaaaapped.' George wailed as he burst into tears. Molly sighed and put down her wand. So maybe little George was lost, or trapped, it wouldn't be the first time._

'_Where are you Georgie?' she said kindly, walking out of the kitchen._

'_I don't knoooooow,' wailed George, who seemed to be in hysterics. 'But it's scaaaaawy.'_

_Molly couldn't help smiling to herself a little as she advanced towards the cupboard under the stairs, in which the Weasleys kept their shoes. After a half second job of turning the key, Molly opened the door to find little Georgie sobbing onto her best pair of boots._

'_It's ok Georgie,' she smiled, picking up her young son, 'you just got locked in the shoe cupboard. How did you get there anyway?' she asked, impressed George had managed to reach the lock which, for someone so small, was rather high. _

'_Hide-and-seek,' George said shortly stuffing his thumb into his mouth and calming down. _

'_Don't worry,' said Molly, putting him down as Fred and Charlie ran into the room. 'Mummy's always here.'_

But Molly wasn't there now. Or Fred. And his mother wasn't in a much better state than he was at the moment . He sighed and wandered down a dark corridor, hoping it might lead him to the room with the mirror.

After more than several failed attempts, George finally found the room with the mirror in. Knowing that he had wasted a lot of time looking for it, he decided to stay there until morning, when he would, if still awake, head back to the great hall. If his brain was in any fit state, George would be able to come up with way better plans to see the mirror more, but it hadn't been working properly since that night in the great hall. George ploughed his way through the rubble and settled onto his spot on the floor again, looking up at Fred who was still, as he had been the previous morning, smiling at the picture George and the genuine one. George leant back against the wall. This may well be the happiest he was going to be for a while. Maybe even forever.

Not even noticing it, George's eyes started to close, his one-eared head drooping onto his shoulder. The blood was gone from his ear, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall had cleaned it with various potions and had practically forced George to take several painkillers, which although they did help, weren't too good on a empty stomach, especially when George needed sleep...


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the reviews guys. They really do mean a lot to me :)

This might be the last chapter for a bit; i'm going away, and have a case of writers block :( but I will write some more :)

All characters are still JK Rowling's, and however much I hate to hear it, she's the only one that ever can and will own George Weasley ...

Some of George's flashbacks are getting quite long - i'm sorry, but once I get started on one, I find it hard to stop

Hope you like anyway... :)

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><p>The next thing George knew was that he was back in a bed, under a large pile of blankets, his eldest brother and little sister sitting with him. George moaned slightly, opening his eyes.<p>

'Whaaa-'

Bill sighed, shaking his head a little at George.

'You wandered off. In the middle of the night. We had no clue where you where, or what had happened. Mum was in tears. She thought you'd...' Bill trailed off at that, putting his arm around Ginny who was sobbing whilst looking at George. 'You need to apologise George, everyone spent the whole morning looking for you, and found you asleep practically half buried by rubble.' Bill looked angry as he spoke, but there was pity in his eyes too. 'I know it's hard, but you're just being selfish, making everyone worry like that. Mum was close to a panic attack.' George pulled the covers up higher and turned onto his other side. Fred would understand. No he wouldn't. If Fred was still here, George would not be in this stupid mess. Apparently, turning onto his other side wasn't a good idea; he had been put in the bed carefully, not resting on his ear which was acting like a fountain and being extremely unpredictable most of the time. George winced and felt a small trickle of blood leak onto the pillow. His ear could bleed as much as it liked, but George seemed unable to let out any tears.

'George. Get up, apologise to Mum, even if it's the only thing you do today,' Bill said commandingly. George sat up, his ear once again throbbing. He was still in his day clothes which he had been wearing since the battle. Everyone else seemed to have changed clothes, and they all looked cleaner. George only looked worse for wear, his face had blood on once again and his eyes were shadowy.

'I'm going to wait outside. C'mon Ginny,' Bill said, as Ginny followed him out of the door. George looked around. Somebody, presumably Ginny, had put some clean clothes out for him. He changed, noticing more bruises than he thought he had got in the battle, but then again, the amount of times he had fallen over stumbling around the previous night probably wouldn't leave him injury free.

Two minutes later, George opened the door, Bill and Ginny waiting outside. They were talking in whispers but stopped when George arrived. He wasn't stupid. He knew they were talking about him, but right now he really didn't care. Bill led them silently to the Great Hall, where Molly was drinking something which looked like a strong coffee.

'Oh George,' Molly cried, just as she had done the previous morning, although this time she didn't get up to hug him. Ron and Percy's faces went still and Arthur looked at George, somewhere between anger, pity and sadness. George sat down awkwardly, barely looking at his family. He couldn't bear to be with them. Or with anyone, but they all wanted to be with him. Fleur Delacour looked up from a short distance away and sighed as she looked at George. He returned a quick glare and moved his eyes back to the position of his family.

'I'm sorry,' he said, his throat dry and his voice barely audible. His mother burst into tears and leaned to hug her son.

'It's ok. But I'm not letting you out of my sight George Weasley,' she said firmly, but with tears in her eyes. George shrugged and pulled himself out of his mother's grip.

The following few days went the same way, George sneaking out to see Fred in the mirror. Of course, he was a lot more careful now, but was also becoming dependant on the mirror, going to it every time anyone left him alone. The Weasleys had finally managed to get George to eat something, not much, but enough to keep him healthy enough. The family seemed to be becoming closer after Fred's death, all except for George who was slowly edging away from his family. It wasn't that he didn't love them, he just couldn't stand to be with them. To see their faces full of pity when they saw George. Their whispering which was surely about him was becoming more than annoying, and the only person George wanted to see now was Fred. George knew he was running out of time; most of the castle was clear enough for the Weasleys to go home, and the time to announce this was coming.

'George, we're going home tonight son,' Arthur had walked up to George, who was sitting on a sofa which had been extracted from the remains of the Gryffindor common room. 'You need to make sure you've got everything.'

George didn't really have anything of his own to get, he wasn't bothered about his clothes that Muriel had delivered once the Weasleys had decided to stay, and his only possession he felt he might want to keep was his wand, which he kept with him. But he needed that mirror. George was not going to leave Hogwarts, and head to what felt like the other side of the world without Fred. Fred had always been there. With George. For George.

_George lay on his side in bed, a small trickle of blood leaking from the hole where his ear once sat. He was fine. His mother had done her very best; giving him what seemed like hundreds of potions for pain, blood replenishing and stopping the curse from spreading. Yet Fred had other ideas._

'_Are you sure he'll be ok?' he asked his Mother right outside the twins' room. Seeing his brother unconscious and covered in blood had really bought Fred down to Earth, and with a hard hit. It was starting to dawn on him just how serious this all was. So George had done the typical Weasley twin thing and made a big joke of it, but Fred could tell he was in pain._

'_He'll be fine,' said Mrs Weasley reassuringly, 'he just needs some sleep, that's all.' She looked up at her son, who was so much taller than her now and smiled at him. 'Be quiet,' she added, 'that curse of Snape's seemed to have wiped all the energy out of him too.'_

_Fred froze. _

'_Snape?' he spat, his entire face changing. 'Snape did this?' Fred would have yelled all the curse words he knew if he hadn't known Ginny was cleaning her teeth across the hall. 'After everything? And he still has the nerve...' Fred was lost for words. Snape, the man they had all suspected for years, then had had to trust, then had killed Dumbledore and now was slicing people's ears off. Fred stormed as quietly as possible into his bedroom, hating every inch of that potions master he thought he would never hate more after the detention in the twins' third year. _

'_Fred?' _

_So George was awake, though he sounded very sleepy, and different, quieter than normal George._

'_You ok mate?' Fred asked, putting on his pyjamas._

'_Yeah,' sighed his twin sleepily, 'just hurts a bit.' _

'_Sure?' Fred asked, not wanting to keep George awake, just concerned._

'_Sure Fred. G'night,' George yawned, pulling the covers up a little further._

'_Night,' Fred said, climbing into his own bed._

_George lay in bed, trying to sleep, but unable to. He was tired, really tired. That spell really had wiped the energy out of him. But he could tell Fred was awake, watching him._

'_Why are you watching me?' George asked his twin groggily, raising his aching head a little._

'_Because I know you're not feeling well,' Fred replied matter of factly. 'You lost a load of blood and were unconscious. You think I can just fall asleep without a care in the world?. Not likely.' Fred snorted a little, getting out of bed and walking over to his twin. 'I'm not moving until you're asleep,' he said stubbornly, pulling a chair a little closer to George's bed._

'_Really Fred, you're like Mum sometimes...' George said, failing to hide his wicked grin._

'_Thanks,' Fred laughed back, happy to see George being normal. 'Now sleep.'_

_George rolled his eyes and rolled over, a smile still on his face._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 guys :D This one's kinda short, but I hope you like (:

Thanks for all the reviews and comments, I really do appreciate them :D

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><p>George stood up slowly, looking around. The rest of the Weasleys had left the room, to pack for themselves. Katie Bell was standing in the corner, quill out and scribbling madly. For some reason, this disconcerted George, and although the room was empty except from her, he wanted to get away.<p>

The path to the mirror was becoming very familiar to him now, he no longer stumbled through the castle at night, hoping he'd get lucky and end up near the mirror. Thankfully nobody had been into the room since the day Arthur and Percy found George, so it was still in there, almost waiting, when George arrived.

After several minutes of staring up at the mirror Fred and George – both of whom were smiling at him, George snapped back to earth. How the heck was he going to bring a six foot mirror home. It was one thing actually bringing it home, and doing it without anyone seeing was literally impossible.

It took the one man at least half an hour of distracted thinking before figuring out a plan, and even then it was risky and not at all flawless, but it was the best George, who was tired, still in shock and having to deal with the fact he could never see his twin again had to go on.

'Reducto.'

George waved his wand and whispered the spell at the mirror, expecting it to crack instantly. But magic never worked for anyone who was in that much shock. The will to snap his wand in the same way Fred's had blown up was so tempting to George sometimes, but he had amazingly managed to keep it in once piece, which was useful for a time like now.

After what seemed like hours of flourishing his wand in millions of ways and attempting to use the spell, It appeared to George that he just couldn't do it. He couldn't actually do magic. Molly had mentioned that Tonks, after the death of Sirius, couldn't metamorph so well, but George had just shrugged that off. He never thought he would be in that situation. He had Fred for goodness sake; it was impossible to stay sad with Fred there, making some kind of stupid joke every three seconds. But his twin was gone now, and had left George back on earth, completly trapped in his own head.

George looked out of the room and blinked across at the window in the corridor. The sky was darkening rapidly, and the Weasleys were sure to leave soon. If he couldn't use magic, he was going to have to use his own strength. That idea was almost laughable. George was usually strong, especially as he had been a beater for almost six years, but anyone who was getting roughly two hours of sleep each night couldn't break a mirror with their bare hands. In realisation of this,

George kicked the mirror with all the force he could muster.

The attempts to break the mirror drained away every last ounce of energy George had, until he felt unsure whether he was awake or asleep, but he was doing it for Fred, and wasn't going to stop, even if sleep was coming closer by the second.

'Ugh,' George grunted, punching the mirror a little too hard, causing blood to drip slowly from his white knuckles, but also with a gasp of shock; after all his efforts, George had managed to make a crack in the mirror. True, it was a small one, but George wasn't planning on taking the whole mirror home, just enought to see Fred's smiling face.

Sweat forming in his forehead and running down his back, George started to get a big enough shard of mirror to take home out of the ornate frame. He felt worse than ever; tired and ill, yet that was only the little things. A lone tear rolled down George's pale cheek as he panted, tugging the shard away from the mirror.

Once it was completly away, George held the mirror silently in his hands, running his fingers sadly over the sharp edges, gaining himself numerous cuts. But just as he had expected, smiling Fred had returned to the mirror, as loyal as he had always been...

'_WEASLEY,' yelled Snape, catching George by the neck of his pyjamas. 'I've caught you now,' he said, a malicous grin spreading across his face. 'Caught at the scene of the crime, red-handed,' Snape added, sounding as happy as he ever got. 'Oh you will be in trouble.'_

_Fred and George, after a new burst of anger towards Snape, had decided to make their own 'potions' late at night in the dungeons, and then spill them all over the floor, as a 'gift' for Snape and his seventh-year Slytherin class the next morning. The twins had then had to run for it, as one of the potions had a rather nasty chemical reaction. Fred had escaped round the next corner just in time, but George, who had been busy tripping over his own pyjamas, was caught by Snape._

'_You're coming with me,' he smiled nastily. 'Alone this time, are we?' he added, looking around as if Fred would appear any second. George sighed; Fred had probably made it back to the common room by now, and was realising George had been found, and was being dragged off to a horrible midnight detention from Snape. _

'_Nah, he's not alone.'_

_George and Snape both whipped around, Snape still clutching George's neck. Fred was standing there grinning at George, he too in pyjamas. _

'_Soooo. What do we have to do this time?' he grinned at Snape, who had now seized his neck too._

'_Thanks,' whispered George, as Snape led them off to their detention._

'_It's nothing,' smiled Fred, 'you'd get really bored without me.'_


	6. Chapter 6

Another chapter :D Sorry for the hugeamungous delay. I was on holiday, and then had writers block. I'm sorry this chapter is short, but at least you have something. It's a lot of depressing Georgie thought stuff, but I need to write it at some time. And more stuff does happen, I promise

PS Sorry for any stupid spelling mistakes in this and the previous chapter. I was computer spell-checking it, and, being the rather blonde person I am, I clicked 'Add to Dictionary' on a load of miss-spelt words :S

I have read and checked, but i'm not that great at spotting things like that, so sorry for any bad spelling

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><p>It was around 7pm when the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry finally left Hogwarts. They walked silently into Hogsmeade, where they were to apparate from, and say goodbye to Hermione, who was taking a portkey to Australia to find her parents. George had hidden the small part of the mirror in his cloak, and, thankfully, none of the Weasleys seemed to have noticed he had it. The village of Hogsmeade looked beautiful bathed in the golden evening light, but the Weasleys had other concerns.<p>

Mrs Weasley was walking slowly, Arthur's arm around her. She was sobbing hard; George couldn't blame her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be like Ginny, or his Mother, who could just let their tears fall without any problem, but George was practically numb. Everyone else had cried, loads. Why couldn't he cry? He had loved Fred the most. He was his twin, for goodness sake. They were inseparable. Yet Fred had died, and George couldn't even cry.

He trailed behind the rest of the family. He was leaving Hogwarts. George felt extremely torn by this; the Mirror was there, Fred's body was still there, until it was going to be moved. Fred had died there. Half of George was screaming to stay, to stay in the place where he had done so much with his brother, where they had spent half of their childhood, and where Fred had died and helped to conquer evil for once.

Yet his other half was screaming to leave. Not without Fred, of course, but to get away from the place where the wall had exploded, where the twins had planned long and hard to escape in their final year. George felt ashamed. How could he have let Fred die in his school? Of all places, seriously, Fred had to finish his life in the place he had so wanted to leave. A huge wave of guilt hit George, as though it was his fault Fred had died. But then again, George thought, maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should have stayed with Fred, should have at least said a proper goodbye. But then, according to Percy, that was what funerals were for.

George walked down the steep track, not aware of the fact Charlie was slowing down his steps. Mr Weasley had eventually got round to the subject of Fred's funeral, with many tears from everyone, excpet George. The Weasleys had tried to ask him how the funeral should be, where Fred was to be buried and what people would wear. They knew, deep down , as did George, that Fred was not a funeral person at all. He would want people to be happy, not dress in black and sing depressing songs, but Molly had (very tearfully) insisted Fred had 'a proper send off'. George had not listened properly at these conversations. He felt sick at the thought of his dead twin in a mahogany coffin, pale and still.

George's thoughts were interrupted then; Charlie had slowed down so much he was now level with George, the rest of the family further ahead.

'You ok George,' Charlie said, braving a cheerful tone.

George couldn't help thinking it a stupid question. Had he been in any fit mood for jokes, his response would have been extremely sarcastic. However, all George could respond with was 'meh.'

Charlie put a muscly arm around George's shoulder. George knew it probably wasn't good to have favourites, but Charlie was defintly his favourite brother, after Fred, of course. George blinked. Charlie was his favourtie brother now. He swallowed. Fred was could no longer be 'is'. He was past tense now. George felt as though he had recieved a heavy blow to the stomach, to add to all his pain. It was really real, really happening to him. Fred was dead, and George had to live the rest of his live twinless, which was, as far as he was concerned, pointless.

George looked up. They had reached Hogsmeade, and were saying goodbye to Hermione.

'Take care, dear,' Mrs Weasley said, to Hermione as she hugged Harry, Ron's eyes watching sharply.

'I'll be back for the, you know,' she said, glancing nervously at George, 'funeral.' Mrs Weasley smiled.

'Thank-you,' Molly replied, a tear leaking from her eye.

Ron had pulled Hermione into a kiss before anybody else could say anything. Ginny rolled her eyes a little as Ron let go, going red as he realised his family had been watching.

The blue light around the bent spoon was getting bigger and brighter. Hermione picked up her backpack and put her hand on the spoon.

'Well, bye everyone,' she said, 'bye George.'

George noticed the look of sympathy in Hermione's eyes just before she disappeared, spinning with the spoon.

'Ready to go as well, everyone?' Arthur asked the Weasleys and Harry, who nodded. 'OK.'

Ginny grabbed onto her Mother's arm, Ron to his Father's and Harry to Bill's as they got ready to return to The Burrow. George swallowed. He was failing to do magic properly a lot. What if he couldn't apparate?

The group spun as one, all concentrating on their destination, except for George, but, before he could get left behind, an hand closed around his arm and they spun. Spun into nowhere.


End file.
